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The 
Finished Product 

And Other 
Selections 



By 
Elza Ivan Edwards 



Published 1918 By 
Edwards and Shurtleft 



^"^^^"^ 



^d^<^ 6 



Copyright 1918 

By 

Elza Ivan Edwards 



APR?9iS18 



©aA499053 



^ . ^ t 



LIST OF CONTENTS 



Introductory — Unseen Powers 1 

The Finished Product 9 

Permanent Qualities 35 

The Burden of War 47 

Self -Assurance 49 

Educational Preparedness 51 

Qualities of Walt Whitman 54 

On Foolishness 57 

Creatures of the Night 58 

Our Symbol 60 

The Bigger Things 61 

The One Forsaken 65 

To My Wife 66 

Lines to the Departing Epoch 67 

To the Highlands 69 

In the Trail of the Winding Willie 73 



Introductory — Unseen Powers 



Introductory — Unseen Powers 



X STOOD, one day, in the density of a forest. 
A fearful storm was raging about me. The 
dark, menacing sky was roaring and grum- 
bling with the grinding, pounding crash of the bel- 
lowing thunder. The lightning darted its keen and 
furious lances thru the blackness of the heavens. 
Forceful shudders penerated the universe above and 
about me; while on every hand was the resounding 
whirl and eddy of the pine trees as tho the very force 
of the blinding storm was centralized upon them. 
Gigantic limbs broke and crashed to the earth; top 
smashed against top ; and the fitful gust of the rag- 
ing storm, seconded by the coarse grumbling of the 
roaring thunder and the keen, cutting streak of the 
fiery lightning created before my vision a chaos of 
utter bewilderment. 

Surely, before my eyes was every detail of that 
storm apparent. Yet the power of that storm — the 
actual promoter of all the disturbance, to me was 
not apparent. Those gigantic trees were swayed 
and twisted by an unseen power — a power not in the 
least weakened because it was unseen. The most 
powerful agent of that storm was the wind, whose 
forceful presence could be readily felt, but not seen. 

I sat, one Sunday, in the church and listened to 
the soothing tones of the anthem which fell so har- 
moniouslj^ upon my ear. Here was the beautiful 
blending of sounds; the thrilling harmony of pleas- 
ing voices. What a fiood of rapture was brot out in 
the richness of the tones ! 

Of a sudden there flashed before my mind the im- 
portance of the man in the background — the unseen 



4 UNSEEN POWERS 

power of the occasion. No thot had I given the 
organist; in truth, my whole attention had been 
centered upon the singers who occupied the fore- 
ground of the performance. Yet, in one's mind can 
be depicted the extreme consternation of these ac- 
tors in the foreground, had only the organist missed 
one note ; failed in one instance to produce that har- 
monious blending of the chords so essential in the 
production of the anthem. 

I rode on the swiftly moving train and talked 
freely with the nobles on board. To us, the man sit- 
ting in the engine's cab, dressed in his greasy work- 
ing clothes, was not to be considered. Little did we 
deign to think of him as we sped along, gayly chat- 
ting to one another, and anxiously viewing the 
sights along our way. Yet in that man's grimy 
hand rested the lives of all on board our train ; and 
in that seemingly careless glance he occasionally 
gave far down the advance line of track, rested the 
safety and security of our journey. 

I look at the busy, prosperous world in which we 
live. I see the gigantic building as it is being 
erected; I see the flourishing business enterprise 
taking on added luster each day; I note the count- 
less factors contributing to the life and prosperity 
of our cities, and I am pleased. Yet I notice not that 
infinite number of human lives which are consecrated 
to the accomplishment and final fulfilling of all these 
enterprises and undertakings. 

Little do I think as I study the individual charac- 
teristics and charms displayed by the actors of that 
unseen power who directed, and is responsible for 
the true worth and excellence of the performance. 

And finally, I look at life. On every hand I ob- 
serve the intrinsic beauties of nature. I see the lofty 
and graceful trees shed their beneficent luster over 



UNSEEN POWERS 5 

all ; I behold the soft carpet of living green that 
spreads itself beneath them ; I greet the roses ; I re- 
joice in all the luxuries of a pleasing vegetation; I 
listen to the singing of the birds, and to the joyous 
sound of all things living; I bathe myself in the 
halo of the golden sunslight ; and in the cool, crystal 
stillness of the night I gaze in silent awe upon the 
grandeur and the majesty of the heavens. And in 
the message of the night — in the clear, forceful call 
of the stars, I feel the far-off presence of that Un- 
seen Power, who, in the excellence of His handiwork 
makes all things just and good. 

It is not necessarily the forces in the footlights 
of our attention that command the highest degree of 
worth. There is an excellence immeasureable in that 
Unseen Power who is willing to push from the back- 
ground. It is the man under the load that can raise 
that load to the highest notch. Demanding atten- 
tion is one matter; rendering actual service is an- 
other. Not all the powers of earth are unseen. The 
footlights ofttimes disclose worthy characters. The 
mark of the man is found in his willingness and abil- 
ity to render service. If the rendering of this serv- 
ice forces him from the position of central attrac- 
tion, he is none the less a man. It is the quality of 
our work that counts, — the thing we stand for. We 
ourselves profit the world nothing. In the quality 
of our productions is the true estimate of our serv- 
ice to be measured. The fame of the writer exists 
not in himself but in his productions. It is not him- 
self that he should make conspicuous, it is his work. 
The power of the artist is in the beauty he depicts 
upon his canvas ; and the matchless glory of God 
rests not in God Himself, but in the wonder of His 
handiwork. 



6 UNSEEN POWERS 

On a smaller scale, a decidedly smaller scale, are 
the works contained in this volume. The author 
claims nothing for himself. The writings herein con- 
tained are thots, only thots, of more or less impor- 
tance. What is here written is written not because 
the writer loved to write it. It is written thru a 
sense of duty to self. When a thot is once pi*esented, 
once flashes into the mind, there is no rest until it 
is written fully and carefully on paper. Once writ- 
ten, the mind is at rest. Perhaps these human thots 
as here expressed will find a common echo in the 
heart of some reader. Mayhap some little line con- 
tained herein will find a bond of sympathy and prove 
helpful and fascinating to the human interests. If 
so, the book has been worth while in a measure, at 
least. 

The ideas here discussed are not borrowed from 
books, nor from other men's theories ; but come viv- 
idly into being from personal contact, from actual 
scholarship with the world. They are original in 
every respect, yet, let us hope that they are of uni- 
versal interest and will create some degree of excel- 
lence for themselves. In this manner they will ren- 
der service to the world. 

The leading essay, — "The Finished Product," is a 
thot that occupied five years in the making, and sub- 
mits to the reader those things that have come to be 
vital to the writer in the shaping of human activi- 
ties. An effort has been made to tone it with quali- 
ties that will prove interesting to the aesthetic mind ; 
but the fundamental hope was to create an intellect- 
ual element in the production. 

Among the shorter essays herein contained we 
find only fleeting thots expressed simply as they 
came to the writer, without any regard to the de- 
velopment of the aesthetic element. 



UNSEEN POWERS 7 

The poems are thots, personal thots, more vital 
to the writer than the reader may imagine. But at 
their best the poems are crude, containing few if 
any of the finer elements that go to make good 
poetry. 

Such, in brief, is the direct introduction to the 
book. It might be added that other work interfered 
to some extent with the writing, so this book is com- 
posed chiefly of piecemeal work, with occasionally a 
period of indigestion. 

On the eve of the closing of this manuscript (Nov. 
1, 1917) the author begs leave to state that the thots 
herein expressed are still intact, and as days pass on, 
force their message with deeper and truer meaning 
upon his deeds, his words, and the inner workings of 
his soul. 

Originality is essential in the best type of service. 
The unseen powers of this world are often the most 
resourceful. We must bear vividly in mind that un- 
seen power does not indicate obscurity from service. 
A man may be an unseen power in relation to the 
world, but he is never an unseen power in relation to 
his special sendee. His influence in the capacity of 
his business is magnetic, forceful, alert. He is seen, 
is felt, is understood by every unit of his business. 

Originality or the initiative, is perhaps the only 
factor we can command to lift us out of the rut of 
professional service. It has not often occurred to us 
perhaps, that mere business procedure of uniform 
type, of uniform requirement, and of uniform solu- 
tion, is but professional ruticizm, or service ren- 
dered in the channel dug by our employer. If we 
must work in a rut, better let that rut be worn by 
the strength of our own efforts ; better enjoy the sat- 
isfaction of knowing that for once, at least, we ex- 



8 UNSEEN POWERS 

perienced the supreme privilege of traveling on un- 
scarred ground. 

Initiative is the key-note to all success. It is the 
basic principle, the underlying motive of truly ren- 
dered service. We admire the wind that blows the 
other way; the current that flows up stream. We 
rejoice to see the cow that intentionally seeks the 
outer edge of the herd ; and the bird that keeps the 
lead of the flock. But above all do we thrill with ad- 
miration at sight of the individual who is willing to 
step outside the stumbling herd of professional serv- 
ants and beat his own trail over valley or mountain, 
meadow or desert, letting others follow if they will. 
And in the exercising of this art of the initiative 
shall the world be made more perfect, and mankind 
rendered more worthy to partake of his great legacy 
of life. 



The Finished Product 



The Finished Product 



INTRODUCTION 

^^^HE theory of the completed product has long 
^^ held a fancy for me. It bears with it some- 
thing of the fragrance of the fabled key 
flower and is saturated with the essence of that 
ever-glowing wreath of promise, the sixth sense, 
that is exalted by so many of our more imaginative 
writers. It is that which, after all, is never know- 
ingly attained. It is a mode of living which, if we 
embrace, we embrace without knowledge of what 
we are embracing. In the concrete it is a fancy — 
an illusion; but in the abstract it is an all-powerful 
force; a phenomena of excellence and worth. Noth- 
ing is complete in the concrete sense. The laws 
governing our universe alter all completeness. Noth- 
ing is concretely finished — nothing is truly com- 
plete. 

But in the heart of man, in the heart of all nature, 
in the heart of our earthly productions, there is 
present an ever-resplendent vision of completeness 
— a goal of bright consequences that lures us on 
thru conquests of adventure, over fields of flowery 
happiness, and over barren plains of disappoint- 
ment. It is concerning our sojourn thru these gar- 
dens of blossoming hopes, and thru these deserts of 
weary suflferings, ever searching, ever striving, and 
ever yearning for that paramount object of our pil- 
grimage, that I care to write. It is the consideration 
of the true and basic motive that impels us to stake 
the fortunes of our lives toward the attainment of 
our life's objective, The Finished Product. 

It occurs to me to make mention of four distinct, 
yet associated conditions of life that confront each 



12 THE FINISHED PRODUCT 

individual and issue forth calls of entreaty, bidding 
him fling off the garment of restraint and enter the 
conquest for The Finished Product. 

The first of these is manhood. What constitutes 
the finished product of manhood? Is one man su- 
perior to another ? Does anyone ever reach the final 
state of perfection? These and other questions pre- 
sent themselves and are well worthy of discussion. 

Following this there comes the vocation of man- 
kind. The condition here presented is one of per- 
fect vocation. The misfitting of men into perma- 
nently-grooved positions is one of the world's se- 
verest evils. The well-worn ruts of professional 
service are not flexible. They do not yield to the 
finer tastes of mankind. Mankind must either yield 
to them or create for himself, by means of his su- 
perior efforts, an unscarred plane of vocational ac- 
tion. It is upon the creating and exercising of these 
superior efforts that the discussion of the finished 
product of vocation is to be based. 

The third circumstance is chiefly a resultant of 
the condition just mentioned, namely: — the product 
of our vocation. There is the ever-living theory or 
dream of the Finished Product in all we produce, 
thru the efforts we expend in our respective voca- 
tion. Is it the Agriculturist ? — then in what lies the 
product of completeness, the perfected vegetable, 
the perfected fruit, or the perfected breed of stock? 
Or is it plausible that neither of these can ever evi- 
dence the state of final completeness? Be the man 
a Literary genius? — what is his finished product? 
Does completeness lie in his masterpiece? — or is he 
ever satisfied with his best criticizm, his best novel, 
or his best essay? Does he ever fail to observe the! 
effect of a missing note some place — deep in the 
fruit of his efforts? Does the artist as he gazes on 



THE FINISHED PRODUCT 13 

the grandeur of his masterpiece ever fail to observe 
the effect of a missing stroke or touch of the brush 
some place on the canvas? Is the finished product 
of our vocational productions ever witnessed by our- 
selves, who alone are the competent judges of its 
worth ? 

And lastly comes Virtue. Back of Manhood with 
its exploits and fancies rests the basic and founda- 
tional quality of Virtue. All bodily undertakings 
are dependent upon it. No protecting fortress of 
strength is complete without it. A special study of 
Virtue is here necessary to determine first its in- 
trinsic value to human undertakings, and second, 
to determine if possible, its relation to the quality 
we are here considering — that of the Finished Prod- 
uct. We must consider in our discussion, the an- 
swer to this question, viewing the question in its 
ethical sense: — When is a man truly and surely — a 
Man? This is the test of the Finished Product. 
Concretely, as has been pointed out, there is no 
finished product of perfection. Nothing is mate- 
rially perfect. The One perfect Man upon this earth 
has never yet seen his parallel. His prototype can 
only be framed in Heaven. 

Yet is there not in the abstract, theoretically 
speaking, that is, a quality of perfection existing in 
the moral characteristics of mankind ? Surely there 
is at least a reason pointing toward this, otherwise 
there would be no incentive so strongly promoting 
a clean moral existence. Even the thots of an here- 
after are not sufficient to produce these desires for 
moral stability. Competition is the key-note that 
prompts all our undertakings. "To compete" is our 
slogan, our motto, and our chief desire; and finally 
"to excel, to excel." To be better than the man be- 
side us ; to excel in qualities of manhood, to excel — 



14 THE FINISHED PRODUCT 

to supersede in nature of vocation; to excel, ever 
excel and surpass our fellowman in the productions 
of our applied efforts — and finally in Virtue — to 
excel, to be just a trifle better than our neighbor: 
to be at the top step in the ladder of morality: to 
be the best of the best: to excel in the moral at- 
tributes of mankind. Whether or not we are con- 
scious of this, it is, nevertheless a condition that 
exists. 

And now arises the question — are we justified in 
placing the completeness of life's conditions upon 
this incentive quality of excelling? Have we any 
legitimate, any ethical right to attain this perfected 
stage with this singular desire ? Does it not signify 
selfishness — is it not in itself the contrary of that 
purity of motive which should underlie all advance- 
ments in attaining manhood, vocational and vir- 
tuous perfection? 

This is purely a matter of conjecture, but it seems 
to me that there is np use denying the real and 
fundamental issue. If this principle of excelling 
is termed selfishness, then, as a race, we revel in 
selfishness. We are born with that instinct, and it 
is made ever manifest in our daily proceedings. To 
live is to excel; to be ever in advance of the man 
beside us. We may exhort our superior efforts in 
the upbuilding of the race, but because we take 
pride in ourselves and that which we stand for, we 
would not exchange a superior position for an 
inferior one. And this pride in itself is merely 
another form of writing "excel." We are not con- 
tent with forever lingering along on the same plane 
with those who will not or cannot ascend. We wish 
to push on, and thus, by virtue of our superior po- 
sition, win the respect and confidence of those about 
us: — our fellowmen :— those over whom we are ex- 
celling. 



THE FINISHED PRODUCT 15 

Now if the fancies and lofty sentiments of man- 
kind wish to tread down upon this dominating con- 
dition of excelling and relegate it to the dominion 
of selfishness, I say, let it pass. It is merely a phase 
of that mighty and supreme condition of life itself. 
Life — the sum total of these conditions is one sel- 
fish motive if we choose to so construe it. Without 
altering or diminishing its meaning in the least, I 
could trace every condition of life to its origin, and 
lay my conclusions on the unsacred altar of selfish- 
ness. Love, beauty, cleanliness, joy — any of these 
conditions oould be related to the characteristic 
motive of excelling and thus be styled — selfish. 

It is not my intention to do this, however. Rather 
would I laud that soul's desire to excel. I would 
praise it, I would call it a Christian Virtue. To 
excel is to possess ambition; to be able to move on 
and on and on; to push ever upward and onward; 
to lay aside the playthings of the present, and grasp 
with a heart's determination the real tools of the 
future; to strive to occupy those positions of trust, 
of honor, and of confidence that the public ever has 
to offer him who, by virtue of his progressive abil- 
ity has. shown himself to be in advance of his fel- 
lowmen, and who, by his efforts has gained the top 
round on the ladder of progress, and stands pre- 
pared to cope with any condition his advanced life 
may present. 

This is to be successful in life: this if you will, 
is the finished product of success, which spelled in 
the abstract becomes familiar to us as "desire"; 
desire to succeed, to make life a go — that heartfelt, 
humanistic desire to excel. 

And now to the discussion of the principal theme 
of my essay; a discussion of these four conditions: 
Manhood, Vocation, Product of Vocation, and Vir- 



16 THE FINISHED PRODUCT 

tue. We have yet to consider what, in each of 
these, constitutes the finished product — the perfect- 
ed stage. This is largely a matter of opinion, and 
one will undoubtedly draw his own conclusions, but 
in my discussion the abstract quality only shall be 
considered. 

MANKIND. 

There is first to be discust the quality of man 
himself. Here we must make a distinction between 
the ethical and mental state of man. The moral, or 
•ethical conditions of mankind we will discuss in the 
relation they bear to Virtue. But in the physical 
and mental elements of the body what constitutes 
the finished product of man? 

There is the physical element. A man to be thor- 
oly a finished product must be symmetrical. This 
state of symmetry does not alone exist in the voca- 
tional side of our natures. It is prominent in the 
trinity of mankind — body, mind, and morals. Our 
bodies are bulwarks of God's wonders in which are 
stored in a protected refuge of safety, those lofty 
aims, ambitions, and inclinations which rightfully 
placed spell — "The Man." No crew of sailors is 
symmetrically equipped if not safely located behind 
the protecting physical strength of the battleship. 
Neither is a crew of moral and mental attributes 
of human character symmetrically arranged, unless 
thoroly located behind a body of physical exactness. 
The best type of a physical body is essential to the 
attainment of the highest of the human aspirations. 

But a point must here be thoroly established be- 
fore I continue in my analysis. The human body 
does not make the man. It must be an emphasized 
element ; but no human being is symmetrical in sub- 
stance unless equally balanced in a perfected stage 
of body, mind, and morals. For convenience, how- 



THE FINISHED PRODUCT 17 

ever, we must discuss each of these three elements 
as apart from one another, and arrive at our con- 
clusions separately. 

The physical state of perfection does not exist 
in six feet, four inches of stocking-foot intelligence. 
It does not exist in a rock's solidity of brutal biceps. 
Physical prowess does not constitute physical com- 
pleteness. The finished product of physical man- 
kind does not always exist in the athlete's well- 
moulded physique; it is not anchored in flowery 
fields of physical satisfaction. It lies embodied in 
that lofty elevation of purpose which bespeaks an 
incentive in the human mind to go upward and on, 
ever on, and forward to the attainment of the best 
that stretches out in the pathway of our poten- 
tialities. To encounter and embody each little con- 
tribution of strength and endurance that the uni- 
verse may offer us; to remain firm, and fight with 
a manly resistance any enemy who might try to rob 
us of our acquirements; and to look forward, ever 
forward, toward the consumption of all that is con- 
genial to bodily strength and virility — this deter- 
mines the highest state of physical completeness. 
To forever strive to attain an added amount of phy- 
sical strength and vitality, to possess stability and 
soundness, to entertain a.n ever-dominant feeling of 
pride in all that is true and beautiful in the phy- 
sical make-up — this marks the perfected stage. To 
utilize every ounce of physical effort we possess, and 
to utilize every ounce of our physical potentialities 
— this is to be the finished product of physical man- 
kind. 

There comes mankind's mental element. The men- 
tal strength of a man may be subdivided into the 
reserve force, the display force, and finally the dis- 
tributing or advertising force. The latter is that 



18 THE FINISHED PRODUCT 

faculty so many possess of enlarging upon trifles: 
placing all their mental data upon the surface, and 
allowing it to be scattered to the populace. It is 
needless to say that the finished product does not 
lie here. 

The "display force" is closely associated with the 
reserve force. The mental state of mankind must 
have a strong background of reserve force. The 
display force should only present an intimation to 
the world of the true value of the reserve force, the 
whole of which they may never see, but the sig- 
nificance of whose presence they may feel on any 
necessary occasion. 

Some of the greatest men are the least heard, but 
the magnitude of their reserve force is felt by all, 
thru the agency of a mighty vibration that travels 
from soul to soul. It is this reserve force of others 
that leaves the lingering impression upon us. As 
the tastefully decorated window gives evidence of 
the mighty stock of goods inside, so, also, does the 
tactfully used display force evidence a mighty re- 
serve force of ideas, carefully calculated theories, 
and self-assurances. 

As to the finished product of this element little 
need be said in addition to the explanation of the 
forces thus given. To that man who, with exact and 
unerring diligence, strives manfully to upbuild and 
supply his mental reserve by careful research and 
investigation; and who, with explicit care, places in 
his window of display force only such goods as sug- 
gest and do not advertise that which is held within, 
to him may be accredited in all true accordance, the 
high ideal of the finished product of the mental ele- 
ment of mankind. 

I have a certain friend who, thru careful and 
close observance, has been represented to me as the 



THE FINISHED PRODUCT 19 

ideal of the finished product of mankind, which, as 
discust here, embraces the physical and mental 
make-up. His moral attributes are not lacking, 
but cannot, with consistency toward my point, be 
discust here. This friend is not a physical giant, 
but the real essence of the matter is embodied in 
the fact that he conserves every ounce of physical 
energy that offers itself. Or, if he can make, under 
any possibility, a piece of energy his own, he will 
do so. Any amount of physical science that is con- 
ducive to his physical make-up, he receives into his 
own. He would not intentionally cheat his body of 
one good turn. He makes a special study in con- 
nection with his vocation, concerning his physical 
needs. If his partaking of meat would cause any 
portion of his physical make-up to stumble, he would 
not partake of that meat. He, I claim, is a perfect 
specimen of physical perfection. 

His mental attributes are not retarded, but bal- 
ance perfectly with his physical construction. He 
so construes the true value of a perfectly harmon- 
ious life, as to cause his physical and mental ele- 
ments to work in perfect accord with one another. 
His day's work is so well planned that neither his 
physical nor mental elements are retarded or accel- 
erated. His vocation calls forth mental energy alto- 
gether, but he ever supplies a sufficient amount of 
physical energy to secure absolute symmetry. With 
careful, diligent research, he plies task upon task, 
so that, when his day's work is over, his reserve 
force has not stagnatized in the least, but has been 
carefully and surely enlarged and made firmer. And 
with careful tact and diligence, almost unknowingly 
is a certain display force made manifest in his voice 
and manner which bespeaks of the real depth that 
lies hidden within, and spells in capital letters — 



20 THE FINISHED PRODUCT 

"THE MAN." His life and actions typify the per- 
fected stage. His motives symbolize the finished 
product of mankind. 

Volumes devoted to the lives of men and nations 
indicate a gradual development from the lower to 
the higher plane of living — a gradual ascending to 
the loftier regions of thot and action. The man of a 
past age is not to be compared with the man of the 
present age. Yet each age, even the present, is 
lacking. What we need is symmetry in our bodily 
make-up. As instance, the past was dispropor- 
tioned by the retardation of the mental, and thej 
acceleration of the physical elements. The present 
age is gradually drifting to the opposite extreme. 
The happy medium is attained by only a choice few. 

In a sense we are, after all, the moulded products 
of our ancestors. If we rise to the surface in any 
special vocation and win distinction, it means merely 
that in this life of progression the thots and aspi- 
rations of our ancestors, which, having arisen dur- 
ing the day and being crystallized at night down 
deep in the depths of their inner conscience, thru 
a gradual ascending process, finally came to the 
surface and greeted the light of day in lour lives. 
This view of heredity is only a natural one. The 
seed struggles to come to the surface — ever creeps 
toward the light of the sun. It craves life. If the 
winter comes before the seed sees the light of life, 
it never survives, and a flower of life is crusht. If 
the winter of life descends before a human inclina- 
tion greets the surface it is cut down, but its seeds 
are securely sown in the breast of another in a more 
or less retarded form, and because of its gradual 
ascension toward the light, must sooner or later 
come to the surface, and find expression in the heart 
of some individual. 



THE FINISHED PRODUCT 21 

After this introductory analysis we may now en- 
ter into our discussion of the second condition of 
life, which is to say, 

VOCATION. 

The vocational side of a man's life calls into ac- 
tion either his physical or mental elements, and ever 
his moral, or virtuous element. If a man is unfit 
to work he is unfit to live ; if he is too good to work, 
God knows, he is too good to live: let him die. If 
he doesn't need to work, then by the powers he 
doesn't need to live, for living is working, and in its 
swiftly flowing stream of consequences there is no 
room for a back eddy or a stagnant pool. 

Work may be divided under a symimetrical stand- 
ard, and a unitary standard. The symmetrical stand- 
ard embraces that class of beings who are all round 
vocational ists, or, using the current expression — 
"jacks of all trades." The unitary standard calls 
for a man who specializes in one feature of work: 
who makes a special vocation his nucleus, or cen- 
tralized unit of vocational activities. It is with 
these two standards in mind that we may proceed 
to determine, if possible, the finished product of 
man's vocation. 

There is always an uncertainness connected with 
work that makes us wonder, at times, if there can 
ever be a finished product of vocation. We are al- 
ways so dependent upon the man over us, that at 
times only the uncertainties are visible. After all, 
we are never sure of a job until we have completed 
it and have received our pay. Unless our manhood 
is entirely crusht, we are forever making an en- 
deavor to reach the top round on the ladder of life. 
And this is /only natural, because the man on the 
round above us must have some place to rest his feet, 
and our heads are directly below him. And ofttimes, 



22 THE FINISHED PRODUCT 

if we are unruly, we are severely punished by an 
added pressure to the natural weight of the feet. 
Hence, we ofttimes succor to those above us. 

In. my position it was my lot to note at one time 
a series of letters from various persons applying for 
the position I held. Such utter subjection did they 
make to this unknown man who had charge of the 
employing! He, in turn, was crusht under the feet 
of practically the whole community ; yet he was lord 
supreme over these who had written him. I thot 
how dependent we are upon others; how, uncon- 
scious that we do it, we scrape and fawn and en- 
deavor, by even subjecting ourselves, to win the fa- 
vors of those under whose feet we are prostrating 
ourselves. 

And yet, I ask myself, is this work? It is, as a 
bare fact ; merely a matter of gaining the top round 
— of excelling. We long to excel in physical and 
mental strength those with whom we come in con- 
tact. So we long to excel in class of vocation our 
fellowman. And from this longing there erects it- 
self before my eyes a vision of the true glory of 
work. And from this vision I will endeavor to draw 
my conclusion as to what constitutes the finished 
product of a vocation. 

Under the symmetrical standard I cannot con- 
ceive the advent of the Finished Product. The state 
of the novice must cease ere the Finished Product 
can issue forth. And, laboring under this standard 
it devolves that no man can pass from the stage of 
a novice into the experienced state. Life is too 
short to admit of a man mastering every vocation 
that presents itself. I readily grant that it would 
be convenient in a sense, for each man to be com- 
plete master over every craft, but in a broader view, 
business thruout the land would be ruined, and the 
very heart of the vocational side of life would be 



THE FINISHED PRODUCT 23 

deadened, and life itself would cease, in as much as 
humanity is dependent entirely upon work. It is 
a pleasing thot to be vocationalized in a flexible sort 
of way — to be able to work in common with the ag- 
riculturist; to share the vicissitudes of the me- 
chanic; to enjoy a crucial testing of skill with the 
electrician; and to discuss, in an amiable manner, 
the deepest political problems of the day. But this 
cannot be. It is contrary to established precedents 
governing nature. Were life to be stretched into a 
threefold existence we yet would confront a shortage 
of time. Each golden minute must be aptly applied 
to the mastering of our highly chosen vocation. 

If we wish to be enniched upon the far-reaching 
wall of posterity, we must become diligent laborers 
under the unitary standard; we must become mas- 
ters of our vocation, making it the centralized unit 
of our thots and actions. Under this standard only, 
must we expect to discern the completed product. 

We are the masters of our own vocation ; hence, a 
vocation cannot be thoroly efficient until we have 
mastered it. There is such a condition as our voca- 
tion mastering us, and if this is the case, grave con- 
sequences are sure to follow. We should so train 
ourselves as to be able to secure a keen delight in 
pitting lOur efforts against the manifold problems 
of our business. There is an ever-present opportu- 
nity for us to master our own vocation. We must 
grasp this opportunity. We must conquer our busi- 
ness. We must so control our vocation as to enable 
it to create for us, perfect products of our concen- 
trated thots and actions. If this is done, our voca- 
tion is becoming in a large measure, perfected. 

"If I were a cobbler, 'twould be my pride 
The best of all cobblers to be; 
And if I were a tinker, no tinker beside 
Should mend an old kettle like me.'* 



24 THE FINISHED PRODUCT 

This emphasizes the vital truth. We inherit an 
obligation of service to this world. We should ren- 
der the best that is in our power to give. Nature 
owes us nothing. She constitutes the human cred- 
itor. The debt is all on our side. We are under a 
moral obligation to pay it off. A life full of active 
service, properly rendered, is our only means of 
cancelling this obligation. Otherwise we die in debt. 
No debt can assume the gravity of this debt to our. 
existence. Only those who are thoroly prepared are 
capable of rendering the most profitable service. 
To be prepared one must be ever active under the 
unitary standard, and must give to his vocation his 
every attention, striving, meantime, to sufficiently 
round it out by active research in the works of his 
fellowmen. But to diligently search into the ar- 
chives of his own vocation; to draw from out the 
reserve current of its working capacities all related 
formulas, and to throw his every effort into contact 
with all the practicalities of his vocation — this is the 
path that leads to completion, and this is the manner 
by which we may do service, active service to our 
world. 

Julius Caesar once remarked that he had rather 
be first man in a village than second best man in 
Rome. To be efficient in our vocation : to be at the 
summit of its involved honor — this is the finished* 
product of vocational success. 

The crucial testing of success in this life rests in 
the amount of energy we throw into our respective 
vocation. The more energy that is made manifest, 
the higher the element of success we attain, and 
the higher the element of success, the more pro- 
nounced is our pleasure. An enthusiastic applica- 
tion of energy always brings from the responsible 
person a tribute of praise, and praise brings to its 



THE FINISHED PRODUCT 25 

recipient the keenest element of pleasure. The es- 
sence of this pleasure is the knowledge that we com- 
mand the respect, esteem, and confidence of our fel- 
lowmen. This trust, and appreciation of applied 
effort, is final evidence of the finished product of 
pleasure. 

And finally it remains to discuss the relationship 
of wealth to the foregoing topic. Wealth should not 
be the sole measuring standard governing a voca- 
tion. The remuneration should be considered suf- 
ficiently satisfactory if it equals the average wage 
paid in the vocation. The finished product of wealth 
cannot be computed in dollars and cents. The rich- 
est man is he who does the most service to his fel- 
lowmen. To render honest service to our fellowmen 
— -this, coupled with its inevitable reward, makes for 
wealth. Money in itself is valueless ; it is the pleas- 
ure we can derive from money that makes it a 
power. The man with a moderate wage can also 
partake of pleasure. He should be discreet in this, 
however: not to throw money away. To profitably 
invest is to save. Money can be expended in ve- 
hicles of pleasure that are lasting, and are not for 
the moment. 

We can evidence efficiency in our vocation by a 
display of high quality in the products of our labor. 
It is necessary that all work should assert itself. 
The quality of this assertion should be distinctly 
pronounced. Some m^ode of production is the nat- 
ural resultant of our concentrated eflforts. "By their 
fruits ye shall know them" — by the product we turn 
out, is our vocation itself to be judged. Let the 
product be denounced, and the vocation is de- 
nounced. Let the product be enamoured of praise, 
and the vocation stands sturdy and strong above 
all reproof and reproach. 



26 THE FINISHED PRODUCT 

The product of our vocation acts as the medium 
of service between the vocation itself and the great 
wave of humanity whom it is our duty to serve. 

A due consideration is, then, of prime importance 
to observe, if possible, the highest grade of voca- 
tional productiveness that we can hope to attain. 

VOCATIONAL PRODUCTH^NESS. 

Of such importance are the vocational activities 
of our existence, that a man's life becomes meas- 
ured, in a sense, by his ability to handle his job. 
A man measures up every inch as big as the job 
he can successfully hold down. If he causes his 
work to expand, the character of the man expands 
with his effort ; if he allows neglect to enter into his 
work, the most noble traits of his character become 
dwarfed with his vocation. 

And now we enter into our last discussion related 
to the central theme of the foregoing topic: the 
product of our work. There is little to be said upon 
this topic. The product of Man's vocation cannot 
be otherwise than perfected if it is an output of the 
conscientious man — of a fair and unbiased judge of 
worth. The whole heart enters into thots of it: a 
soul's expectancy is bubbling up in honor of it. But 
underneath that serene calm of quiet joy we evi- 
dence in looking forward to its successful reception 
in the world, there exists the disquiet of a troubled 
soul. 

I rejoice to think of the thots I have here tran- 
scribed — I shudder to think of the mighty opposi- 
tion this little, yet mighty effort, will meet. Like 
a frail little tree, battling in the gusts of the season, 
so must it battle in the gusts of ridicule and denun- 
ciation. Never known, perhaps, will it meet its 
death? Will it fail to receive due commendation by 
the voice of the people? Of what use is it to the 



THE FINISHED PRODUCT 27 

man it does not materially benefit? After all, is this 
the crucial testing of my product? Will it benefit 
my fellowman? These are suggestions of the thots 
that possess me as I prepare the final stroke of ef- 
fort on my product. 

I think again — will I, myself, be satisfied? Will 
my dreams of a literary masterpiece be here made 
real? From the deepest regions in my heart of 
longing have I looked forth to this as the best of 
my eflforts — my finished product — my masterpiece. 

I tell my literary friend: ''Here you behold me 
working upon that which I hope to make my mas- 
terpiece. The thots and aspirations, the dreams and 
ideals, the yearnings and the soul's hope for com- 
plete expression are condensed in my work. Thru 
long, weary weeks I have labored at this; hoping, 
fearing ,trusting, dreaming, ever expectant, ever 
fearful, until at last I am preparing to give expres- 
sion to my efforts thru this instrument of my pro- 
duction. This piece of work embraces a life of five 
years. The presentation of life as it has come to 
me, has cast upon my being a multitude of thots all 
centering upon the theme of the finished man — 
mental, moral, and physical ; with all his associated 
attributes of character and efficiency. I put them 
down with one hope, one aim, and one ambition — 
that they will satisfy me. Can this be accomplished ; 
can this be realized — then, my dear friend, I have 
attained the height of a soul's satisfaction; I have 
achieved the real essence of the completed stage of 
vocational productiveness. I have completed my 
task — I have realized world-wide success because I, 
myself, have been satisfied and contented with my 
work — my essay on The Finished Product'." 

I look around me and see the work of others. How 
do we measure the perfected state of a product? 



28 THE FINISHED PRODUCT 

When is this perfected state attained? Is it when 
mankind is benefited by what we have done? Or is 
it when, piggishly enough, we ourselves, are satis- 
fied ? Deep down in our truest selves, we are never 
satisfied at anything less than our best. Then it 
remains only to be said — make every piece of work 
your masterpiece. Can this only be attained, then 
you, fellow-laborer, are satisfied with your product, 
and I am satisfied with mine. This is the first and 
urgent test I give my work — is it my masterpiece? 
If so, I am satisfied, and I say to the world, "Here, 
take it. I have no doubt that you will receive some 
of the vital truths contained, that have come to mean 
so much to me. I have no doubt that, to some ex- 
tent at least, it will prove a substantial benefit to 
mankind." 

But if I perceive that it is not my masterpiece, I 
know that I am ruined. Those things that have 
come to mean so much to me I cannot give out in the 
manner I would give them. My past years of prepa- 
ration have been wasted. It is for this that I shud- 
der — WILL IT BE SATISFACTORY TO ME? Can I trust 
myself to it? Will it carry me safely thru? Is it 
fit for my innermost soul's approval? 

In this instance is the completed element of hap- 
piness brot about — in the excellency of our produc- 
tion. I am happy if my alloted task is completed ir 
a manner highly satisfactory to me. Regardless o: 
the nature of our vocation, if its output can but wii 
our approval, we feel that we have done a gooc 
thing. We ourselves are the final judges of the mat- 
ter. It is not humanity. The advent of the Finishec 
Product would wither in the sand and heat if placet 
upon the barren plains of worldly criticism. Th( 
grandest height of helpfulness can be slandered t( 
the lowest level of evil doing; the costliest elemen 



THE FINISHED PRODUCT 29 

of human kindness can be ridiculed to the basest 
level of hatef ulness ; and the holiest shrine of char- 
acter can be denounced into the meanest possible 
construction of human virtue. The tainted canvas 
upon which others paint my true worth is not to 
be considered. I will show to the world a master- 
piece of character, painted upon a canvas of purest 
virtue. Those versed in the culture of life will gaze 
upon the product of my own handiwork for the true 
estimate of my worth. 

Only we ourselves know what we are most ca- 
pable of doing. No other is empowered as we to 
detennine whether or not we have attained unto the 
best that is in us. If we have not satisfied ourselves, 
we have no ethical right to give our product to the 
world. If we cannot approve of our work it had 
best sink into oblivion, for thru it aalone, is the 
worth of the man and his vocation judged. Why 
should we allow ,ourselves to be measured by that 
which is not our very best? For if an unsatisfac- 
tory product wins the disapproval of the world, we 
are hurt, because we know it could have been bet- 
ter, and does not stand for the best that is in us; 
and if it merits the approval of the world, the re- 
sult is the same. We know that the best we com- 
mand has not been given and we are not content. 
But if it is the best we can do, if it is our master- 
piece; whether it wins for us distinction or disap- 
proval, we yet rejoice, for we know that we have 
given the very best that was ours to give — that if 
we had it all to do over again, it could not be other- 
wise than it is. This is to win the approval of our 
innermost soul — this is to be the Finished Product. 

And now, is this, my essay, my write-up on the 
Finished Product complete? Is it, in itself, worthy 
of my heartiest approval? The completed product 



30 THE FINISHED PRODUCT 

of manhood in both its physical and mental attri- 
butes has been discust; its choice of vocations; its 
enduring qualities ; its manifold helpers and destroy- 
ers have all been considered — and finally, we come 
to the product of man's vocation — that instrument 
of man's creation, that product of his creative effort 
which establishes itself as a medium between his 
mental, moral, and physical attributes — and the 
world. 

Having clearly defined the physical and mental 
status we must now consider our last great condi- 
tion — the completed stage of the moral element of 
life. In rounding out the symmetrical man we must 
needs overlook nothing. That great effervescent at- 
tribute of morality circles all other conditions of life 
herein mentioned. So we may aptly end the discus- 
sion of this theme with a consideration of the last 
great condition — 'The Finished Product of Virtue." 

VIRTUE. 

We owe to this world a certain well defined duty. 
That duty is designated as service. True service 
can never be rendered by those who are in any in- 
stance incompetent. The greatest test of incompe- 
tency is by the measurement of a man's own natural 
inclinations. If we cannot adapt ourselves, body, 
mind, and spirit, to our work, we are proved to be 
incompetent. A section-hand cannot do justice to 
literary pursuits; neither can a mechanic render 
service in a pulpit. Unparalleled service is rendered 
only by those who are actually progressing in a vo- 
cation to which they are naturally adapted by the 
circumstances of their creation; by the virtues of 
their heredity. 

In the first instance we must direct our efforts to- 
ward the acquisition of a perceptible code of ethics. 



THE FINISHED PRODUCT 31 

The greatest curse of any rendered service, is a serv- 
ice dwarfed by a decrement of morals. 

Our morals must be flexible; must be character- 
ized, above all, by their plasticity. As changing 
circumstances shift the conditions whereon we act, 
each new move in our vocational proceedings should 
be pronioted by a strong moral sentiment. That re- 
senting force which formerly occupied so conspicu- 
ous a position against the exertion of one's finer na- 
ture, is now worn out; decrepit. Its old theory of 
success established by cold-blooded, purely business 
motives, has long since been exploded. Even our 
business world has at last arrived at that stage 
which demands a thoro MAN; a man resplendent 
with high ideals and noble motives. It is this moral 
element of our manhood that now occupies the high 
pedestal of glory; the towering pinnacle of fame. 
One's physical and mental make-up finally converge 
into an aristocracy of merit; and in this exalted 
realm, man is judged by the virtues of his manhood. 
Character alone is supreme — character — the prod- 
uct of virtue. 

As a candidate for this distinguished circle it be- 
hooves us to focalize our ever effort toward the 
attainment of that high award of virtue, for by the 
attainment of character alone, can we consider life's 
existence to be successful. 

Realizing the full import of a strictly unpolluted 
life, it is next incumbent upon us to consider the 
highest state |0f worth in its conservation. In this 
instance, as in others, it calls forth an inclination 
to excel. The acceleration of a high moral probity 
is essential ; its retardation is detrimental to all for- 
mulated ideas of success. The highest state of 
probity is recognized more readily when placed in 
contrast with a weaker state of probity. Not that 



32 THE FINISHED PRODUCT 

we should vauntingly endeavor to soar above others ; 
but that we should be strong enough morally, to 
resist those temptations which continually visit one 
in his physical and mental enterprises. This calls 
forth the MAN. 

In the event of our attainment of virtue, we our- 
selves, are the only competent judges of its worth. 
The world can readily judge the actual strength of 
our physical make-up; it can arrive at a definite 
measurement of our mental capabilities; but to 
judge us upon the true worth of our faculties of 
morality, it can only base its judgment upon sup- 
position. The implication of high moral standards 
in our capacities to think and act, will tone our thots 
and actions with the highest perceptible quality of 
virtue. 

The crucial testing of the finished product of vir- 
tue lies in our ability to cope with the adversaries 
of righteousness. To be able to put aside all thots 
of materialistic consequences, and do the right thing 
at the right time, when the misunderstanding world 
calls forcibly upon us to do the wrong ; to fight with 
all the power that is in us to uphold that which we 
know to be chaste, and, if we falter to try again 
and finally succeed; to measure fairly each phase 
of our mental and physical activities by our acquired 
sense of right and wrong, and, after possible fail- 
ures, to accept the right — this is to have the highest 
conception of the true essence of virtue. 

The finished product of virtue is only attained by 
a constant effort to attain it. We must set before 
our eyes, as a goal and fitting climax to our efforts, 
the grand, untainted vision of perfect manhood, and 
to this end we must direct all our efforts. In our 
minds must be framed the image of a thoro man, 
and every thot and action must be guided by this 



THE FINISHED PRODUCT 33 

soul's standard. A virtuous man is not perfect. 
To be perfect is not to be a man. To encompass 
virtue, vOne must be a man among men. To possess 
ability to eradicate oneself from evil environments ; 
to combat with moral cowardice; to foster that 
which is honorable and noble; this is to be truly 
virtuous. To accept the right as it is given us to 
see the right; to cast out the wrong as we under- 
stand it to be wrong; to do right by the dictates of 
our own conscience, despite the call of the world to 
uphold the evil ; to have strength enough to put aside 
personal gain, and to resist uncompromisingly that 
which we know to be wrong, and forever patronize 
and champion what we conceive to be right ; this is 
the only feasible quality of virtue our souls can 
entertain. 

Need more be said of virtue? Wondrous, indeed, 
is he who possesses the rare distinction of being a 
man. First let us make of ourselves men, let us 
attain manhood as life's foundation and the mighty 
structure of our mental and physical attributes will 
erect itself under the careful hand of virtue — our 
master builder. A sense of justice and right should 
ever prevail and predominate in our many conquests 
of life. We should habituate ourselves to accept 
these two qualities as our life's monuments of honor 
and truth ; monuments which make for success. For 
no truly great success can crown our efforts unless 
it is encircled by the halo of these virtues. 

In each distinct part of his three-fold nature, the 
man who commands the largest element of esteem is 
he who is willing to arise when he has fallen; to 
advance when he is delayed ; to push forward when 
he is forced back; to demand the love, the respect, 
and the admiration of the world when he is scoffed 
at, ridiculed, misjudged, and buried in the depths 



34 THE FINISHED PRODUCT 

of mortal criticism. But in our heart of hearts, the 
man most worth while, the perfect man, is he who, 
with a cheerful personality is willing to SERVE — 
when the world is ambitiously endeavoring to crush 
down his noblest efforts. 



The Permanent Qualities 
And Other Essays 



The Permanent Qualities 



XN life and in all individual make-up there are 
two qualities — the temporary, transient, mo- 
mentary qualities, and the permanent, lasting, 
durable qualities. These two qualities do not sepa- 
rate one individual from another; they make up the 
two classes of qualities that characterize all indi- 
viduals. In our daily contact with one another we 
find these two classes of qualities made clearly and 
forcibly manifest. 

The chief question involved, relative to our topic, 
is one of consistency. The temporary qualities are 
the conditions governing our deeds and actions that 
are subject to daily change, or change on any occa- 
sion without notification. The permanent qualities 
govern those human traits that never vary — that 
are always definitely located and organized. In this 
discussion our theme will center around a complete 
understanding of these so-called permanent quali- 
ties — the qualities that never change. In the first 
instance, however, we will endeavor to arrive at a 
logical meaning of consistency, and defend the many 
temporary qualities that are flooding the surface of 
our daily proceedings. 

Each rising sun brings to our lives a rising na- 
ture, a nature endowed with new hope, new ambi- 
tion, and new perspective. This world is a sphere 
of changing conditions. As we partake of these our 
natures absorb new qualities of reasoning and un- 
derstanding. Yesterday's meaning appals us. To- 
day we construe each incoming condition with a new 
measurement — with a new sense of knowledge — a 
knowledge not known to us the day before. If we 



38 THE PERMANENT QUALITIES 

allow ourselves to remain fixed and set to our re- 
solves of yesterday, we cannot successfully meet the 
changed conditions of today. Even our strongest 
resolves must be made flexible. They must yield to 
this life of variableness. 

The question nevertheless occurs to us concerning 
the location of a permanency in life. Surely all life 
cannot be so utterly void of foundation. 

There are in life the Bigger Things — qualities 
that are as fixed and permanent as the sun. Even 
as the sun remains unmoved as the planets whirl 
and rush about it with dizzy speed — so, also, do 
these qualities remain permanent, tho all life is 
rushing onward with a changing, varying existence. 

The world expects certain firm qualities — quali- 
ties that can always be depended upon, and are not 
changed by changing conditions. It is of these that 
I would write in this essay on "The Permanent 
Qualities." 

It is needless to mention here the exact number 
of these permanent qualities. Among the more sig- 
nificant, however, are the qualities of Progressive- 
ness. Consideration and Respect, Purity, Fairness 
and Honest Service, Honor, and Love. These quali- 
ties should never be subject to change, but should 
remain permanent and dependable, regardless of 
varying and changing conditions. A discussion of 
the importance of each of these permanent factors 
of life will be taken up in this little sketch. 

PROGRESSIVENESS. 
We can all agree that the quality of progression 
should never vary. There can be no rise to an in- 
consistency here. Life demands progression. To 
stand still is to fall behind. A man's nature can be 
either accelerated or retarded. It cannot remain 



THE PERMANENT QUALITIES 39 

fixed on any one level. There is no central degree 
between these two extremes of existence. 

Not only life, but character demands that we pro- 
gress in all our engagements. Even a man's char- 
acter becomes dwarfed if he allows his activities to 
narrow. But as his activities enlarge, his character 
expands with his efforts. 

The bible makes mention of the master who, upon 
leaving home, left eight talents in care of his ser- 
vants, giving to one five, to another two, and to a 
third one — giving to each a number corresponding 
to their several capabilities. Upon returning from 
a long journey he called his servants to make their 
report. The first and second reported a doubling of 
their talents by careful investment; but the third 
and slothful servant displayed only the one talent 
that had been given unto him. His master, becom- 
ing disgusted, took away even the one talent and 
bestowed it upon the man who had gained the most 
talents. "And unto him that hath shalt be given; 
but unto him that hath not shalt nothing be given 
but even that which he hath shalt be taken away." 

In life we are each endowed with talents, or fac- 
ulties for service. A life of progression means sim- 
ply an increasing or enlarging of the talents vested 
in us by heredity. If we maintain these talents thru- 
out life in their primal form without allowing them 
to expand, a portion of humanity is dwarfed, in 
consideration of the fact that an element of pro- 
gression has been retarded. Our every action ef- 
fects, in a measure, the mighty machine of hu- 
manity. 

There is never room for decrement of progress- 
iveness. Hence, this is a quality of permanence — a 
quality that should never change, but be always re- 
lied upon for contributing something of true worth 
and permanent value to the world. 



40 THE PERMANENT QUALITIES 

CONSIDERATION AND RESPECT. 

This is the second quality of permanent nature 
under discussion. It is of two classes — considera- 
tion of others and consideration of self. There 
should be no retracing of the respect due ourselves 
and others. It should remain a quality intact with 
all definiteness. A quality of this kind, subject to 
no change whatsoever — no reverse of action, always 
assumes a permanent nature. 

In the consideration due others it is first incum- 
bent upon us to remember that other people have 
opinions demanding the same high quality of re- 
spect that we feel is due our own personal opinions. 
No matter how vague or how forceful they may be 
they are, nevertheless, opinions. Aside from the 
opinions, there are the words and actions of our 
fellow-men. We have no ethical right to misjudge 
others. Little do we know of the underlying motive 
that prompts the word lOr deed of our neighbor. 
After all, the right and wrong rests not in the 
spoken word or in the wrought action, but in the 
basic motive that prompted each. A consideration 
of this motive brings out the message of this dis- 
cussion. Our fellow-men — the world in general, 
have a right to expect this little service from us, 
and we ourselves should consider it an almost sacred 
duty to mankind. 

The consideration and respect due ourselves as- 
sumes more of a moral character. Our mental and 
physical conditions demand our every respect — they 
are worthy of it. We should weigh with an un- 
biased consideration every motive and every deed 
that bears relation to our bodies. To the best of our 
understanding, no word should be spoken, no thot 
should be entertained, no action made manifest that 
would constitute a disturbing element to the fine 



THE PERMANENT QUALITIES 41 

poise of our God-given temples. We should respect 
ourselves and our personal undertakings and 
achievements with the highest quality of confidence 
and trust. 

Being true to one's self is a quality that effects 
our private interests directly and in an indirect 
manner bears a significant relation to the world. In 
all undertakings, regardless of their nature, the 
strongest possible element of self-reliance must be 
cultivated. Self-reliance means simply — relying, or 
acting with an unshaken confidence in the actual 
ability or capability of our natural selves. It is not 
only an ethical injustice, and a moral cowardice, but 
an actual vocational blunder to cultivate a reliance 
upon an assumed characteristic. We are given cer- 
tain inclinations and certain capabilities. If we are 
not satisfied with the talents that are vested in us 
and the talents that are ours to cultivate, we should 
abandon our lives as fruitless, and allow them to 
be swept away by the unresting current of human- 
ity. The only manner in which we may test our 
right to live is not by the characteristics we may 
assume, but by the actual prominence our natural 
selves can command in this world. Never cast a ray 
of thot upon humanity that is not reflected from 
the sun of your potentialities ; never exhibit a flood 
of action that flows not from the fountain of your 
natural inclinations. Allow the world to cultivate 
for itself a reliance in you. Our natural actualities 
and capabilities with the expansion we can give 
them, are sufficient to gain for us a firm indenture 
upon the exalted plane of -mankind's affections. It 
is our sacred duty to establish this as one factor in 
our quality of consideration and respect — a quality 
characterized in every instance by its permanency. 



42 THE PERMANENT QUALITIES 

PURITY. 

The virtuous spirit of living is the new spirit of 
power and prestige. It tones our lives and our pro- 
ductions with the highest quality lof strength and 
efficiency. Purity no longer occupies the curtained 
background of our endeavors; it erects itself over 
the footlights of life, wherein we enact the scenes 
and climaxes of our interesting drama of existence. 
Purity illuminates our actions. Thru it the universe 
is given to see the quality of our productions. Those 
deprived of Purity are deprived of life's most essen- 
tial quality; those who willingly cast oif Purity are 
willingly becoming dregs in the scum of life. Man 
bears closest resemblance to God in his purity of 
purpose, and not in any semblance of body or soul. 

Purity constitutes a great standard of measure- 
ment for all conditions of life. It becomes at once 
the most apt quality, and the most significant atti- 
tude of service our actions can absorb. Under no 
Qondition should it falter. It is a quality that ad- 
mits of "no variableness — neither shadow nor turn- 
ing." 

Purity is not a fetish. It is an all-powerful truth. 
Purity likewise establishes a field of human mili- 
tarism. It constitutes an object to be sought for 
and maintained. It calls forth a concerted action 
on the part of all bodily conditions in a military en- 
counter. The instincts of evil and the instincts of 
righteousness must combat with each other — one for 
the maintaining and consumption ; the other for the 
retardation and final destruction of the element of 
purity. 

The essence of the matter does not rest solely in 
erecting a head-piece of purity for ourselves; its 
significance lies in its successful perpetuation thru- 
out eternity. In shaping our own lives we are care- 



THE PERMANENT QUALITIES 43 

fully moulding the instincts of our posterity. It is 
a selfish motive to consider only purity's plastic in- 
fluence upon ourselves. We should extend our vision 
to include the nebulous human souls whose existence 
we are, in a measure, responsible for. This is the 
reason purity forms in itself a permanent quality, a 
quality we have no ethical right to alter or diminish. 

FAIRNESS AND HONEST SERVICE. 

Surely the least this world can expect from us is 
fairness. Fairness in thot and action calls for little 
personal effort, yet it renders unparalleled service 
to our fellow-men. Fairness and honest service can 
be so construed as to mean precisely the same class 
of qualities. Service, characterized by its fairness 
and honesty, is our born obligation to mankind. We 
should consider it our duty to render little deeds of 
service to our fellow-men, whenever an opportunity 
to do so presents itself. We should make unstinted 
service, augmented by the great governing quality 
of honesty, so much a part of our lives that human- 
ity will gradually grow accustomed to associate their 
knowledge of us with the virtue of this faculty. 

This discussion is not aimed to define either lit- 
erally or poetically these permanent qualities of life. 
It means solely to emphasize their vast importance. 
In order to establish the above-described association, 
for instance, it is essential that there be absolutely 
no changing tendency — no reverse of opinion and 
corresponding change of action. We must set our- 
selves squarely to the proposition that these quali- 
ties are permanent, and must be exercised constant- 
ly — must be focalized directly upon life itself, until 
\ our individual existence enters a state of harmony 
: with these conditions of which it is both originator 
1 and recipient. 



44 THE PERMANENT QUALITIES 

If the condition of fairness is ever reversed, an 
unmistakable inconsistency arises which will alter 
all our former characteristics. We must set our- 
selves firmly to our task. We must ever handle 
these permanent qualities with the hand of a mas- 
ter, making- them natural products of our individu- 
alities. 

HONOR. 

Very brief indeed, is the discussion necessary for 
a quality so vividly apparent as honor. We have 
spoken heretofore of honor as it is involved in purity 
to self. Honor is a beautiful characteristic. It 
is a divine quality. We inherit a sense of honor. 
It is ours to cultivate and guide. We should make 
this cultivation and guidance our paramount object 
in life. As far as honor is concerned, wherever it 
is involved we can anticipate if we will, the posses- 
sion of a quality as sure and firm as the eternal 
stars. Whither there is manhood, there is honor; 
whither there is strength of character there is honor 
highly exalted; and whither there is purity and 
steadfastness of purpose, there is a perceptible in- 
fluence cast by honor. 

LOVE. 

The last quality we care to mention which takes 
on a permanent nature, is the intrinsic quality of 
love. With it qould be coupled faith and hope, but 
only a consideration of the "greatest of these" is 
here confronting us. Love — the greatest of all 
great things; the foundation of all that is lovely — 
of all that is of good report. Love — ^the effective 
prompter of virtue ; the reserve force of power. Each 
little drop of love is as a pearl of hope, resplendent 
with the grandeur of some reflected trust; every 
tiny voice of love echoes in crystal tones to the stars 



I 



THE PERMANENT QUALITIES 45 

of our conscience, carrying its divine message of 
purity; and each dainty thot of love is lifted high 
on the wings of rejoicing to the celestial chorus of 
love in heaven, reverberating there, and at length 
flashing back into the heart of some individual a 
new meaning of life. 

This is a quality that finds expression in all life. 
It defines the finer, nobler instincts of mankind. It 
is not so much the quality itself as its effect that 
causes it to occupy a place in the permanent quali- 
ties of life. For without love, the very best of our 
qualities are construed to the lowest level ; the most 
resplendent instincts take on a menacing tarnish; 
and the keenest sensibilities are reduced to the 
bluntest of dull-edged facts. 

This in brief is the value of love — the greatest and 
most significant of the permanent qualities. It is, 
in reality, an associated factor of all the qualities 
thus far mentioned. The quality of progression 
must be toned with the spirit of love before we truly 
progress; consideration and respect is never mani- 
fest save when it is guided by motives of love; 
purity can never exist, save upon love as a founda- 
tion; fairness and honest service can be prompted 
only by an entertained sentiment of brotherly love; 
while honor is, in itself, an associated condition of 
love — neither being complete in itself — but together 
forming the untainted atmosphere which surrounds 
the eternal condition of life. 

CONCLUSION. 
The purpose of this essay has not been to attempt 
a commentation upon the qualities mentioned. Neith- 
er has it endeavored to focus all attention upon 
the six qualities it names. Each person must de- 
termine for himself the permanent qualities of his 



46 THE PERMANENT QUALITIES 

life. We are the artists of our own destinies. We 
can at least keep our canvas clean and free from 
blotches. This sketch proposes to set forth the im- 
portance of a careful observance of these permanent 
qualities. It aims to differentiate between the per- 
manent and the transient conditions of life. There 
are few, very few conditions of life that we can ex- 
pect to maintain a permanent nature thruout all 
time. The six mentioned here really form basic 
conditions, not daily occurrences. We might dis- 
tinguish by saying that only certain underlying con- 
ditions take on a permanent character. Daily pro- 
ceedings with their associated reverses in opinion 
are only temporary and transient in nature. Their 
consistency lies in their plasticity. They are con- 
sistent only when they shape themselves to act in 
harmony with changing conditions. 

But back of the transient qualities of the day, 
rest the basic conditions of life — conditions that 
never change. These, as hitherto explained, form 
the permanent qualities of our existence. 



The Burden of War 



^w^HO bears the real burden of war? Is it the 
\|/ war-lords who with cunning and strategem 
lead their armies in plans of conquest, or is 
it those inferior officers who march at the head of 
their armies shoulder to shoulder with their soldiers 
and win the victories or share the defeats? Or is 
it the soldier himself who, leaving home and pro- 
fession, wife and children, gives himself up, a living 
sacrifice, a martyr, to the cause of his country? Is 
it this soldier, who wins the victory, suffers the de- 
feat, endures cold, experiences starvation, encoun- 
ters disease, and continually faces that which is un- 
desirable and unwonted — is it HE who bears the 
real burden of war? 

Back of the scene of bloodshed, and the storm of 
shot and shell, we find another class of people who 
also share in the war. They reap the scanty har- 
vests ; they strive to clothe the soldiers ; they slaugh- 
ter the cattle and sheep that the armies may be fed. 
And when the battle is over and the vast war-cloud 
moves on, it is this class of people who go forth from 
their humble homes and bury their dead. They 
starve that the soldier may eat; they thirst that 
the soldier may drink; they suffer cold that the sol- 
dier may have warmth; they continually embrace 
death in order that the soldier may continue to live. 
Like the mighty war-lords they lay plans to effect 
the conquest; like the inferior officer they face the 
conflict with the soldier; and like the soldier they 
leave their homes and loved ones, they encounter 
famine and disease, they brave the dangers and 
share all the perils of the conquest. But their bur- 
den is by far the heavier inasmuch as it is borne 



48 THE BURDEN OF WAR 

by those who are physically unable to bear its 
weight. And when the war-cloud fades away, and 
the sun bursts full upon the scene, resplendent with 
its grandeur of peaceful light, the effects of the war 
still remain in the hearts of this people. Age after 
age, and generation after generation, still finds them 
enduring the curse and bearing the cross which is 
all too heavy. The soldier, if he lives, recovers from 
the weight of his burden. This class of people never 
let fall from off their shoulders the burden of war. 
They bear it to their very graves, and then we find 
it inflicted upon the shoulders of their children. 

War is terrible! How brave are they who go 
forth at the call of the trumpet to fight in the ranks 
of death ; yet how much braver are these who, thru 
a life of self-sacrifice and devotion abandon their 
plans and ideals, and despite their physical weak- 
ness give themselves up a living sacrifice, martyrs 
to the cause of their country. 

Treasures are yielded with one accord, 

To push the war-cloud along. 
Life blood is pitted against evil's hord, 

To avenge pure democracy's wrong. 

In every true throat thruout fair freedom's land, 

The patriot's call resounds, 
The glorious vision of liberty grand, 

In every true heart abounds. 

Wealth is employed, and energy bent, 

Forfeits of land and of gold, 
Heart love is given, talents are spent, 

Peace arms with numbers untold. 

But back of the din and the harsh battle call 

Where privations and famines mar, — 
Women and children, deprived of their all, 

Must bear the real burden of war. 



Self-Assurance 



aNQUESTIONABLE success can be promoted 
only by an unflinching assurance in one's self. 
Any enterprise in which we may engage de- 
mands this condition above all others. 

Self-assurance is merely to trust ourselves as we 
are wont to trust others. Little do we realize, per- 
haps, the actual amount of personal duty we shift 
upon others. This cannot be attributed wholly to 
our desire to shun certain tasks. It finds its cause 
embedded in that human characteristic of self -mis- 
trust. I speak of a personal duty when referring to 
the daily activities we pass over to our fellow-men. 
This duty is personal, inasmuch as it belongs to us. 
It is our work, our allotted task, and when we shun 
it, we pass over to another a part of our personal 
responsibility that determines our success or failure 
in this life. All work that falls in our pathway is 
our work. Its faithful execution is our paramount 
duty. 

We should strengthen ourselves for our life's work 
by cultivating this element of self -trust. We should 
make it a part of our lives. It is most surprising 
to view the results of work directed by this motive. 
Apparently impossible tasks can be accomplished 
with comparative ease, and we stand in awe at the 
thot of our own potentialities. But yet we are given 
this power — ^this instinct of the initiative. It is ours 
to use. In us are vested all powers and all capabili- 
ties. Our potentialities are only awaiting an oppor- 
tunity for expression. Like a finely strung harp, 
they need only the touch of a master artist to make 
them resound with the true brilliancy of their har- 
monic bearing. We are the master artists and our 
tactful touch only is necessary to create a full-round- 



50 SELF-ASSURANCE 

ed tone to the quality of our work. None of us are 
utterly devoid of ability. Embedded deep in our na- 
tures are possibilities for everything. These pos- 
sibilities need only a channel for expression. Above 
all else, that great element of self-assurance is the 
powerful force that can open for us this channel. 

An associated condition of self -trust is self -truth. 
If we trust ourselves we must be true to ourselves. 
''And this above all : to thine own self be true ; and 
it must follow as the night the day, thou canst not 
then be false to any man." 

We should resolve to rise or fall on the true value 
of our natural selves. This is our only means of 
testing our real worth. We might add here; we 
might detract there; but all this is useless. It is 
ourselves, our true selves, that we are trying out. 
When people see and understand our work, they see 
and understand us. Let failure or success be the 
resulting consequence in life, our true worth will be 
fairly and truthfully tested. 

Ofttimes circumstances will arise to discourage 
and dishearten. But the true value of our work be- 
comes apparent as we lay that work down. Did we 
do our best ? Then truly our work was a grand suc- 
cess, even tho to us this success was not visible. Did 
we allow our work to fall short of our best? Then 
we deserved the severest of disappointments. 

Rely upon yourself. Does a piece of work exist 
to be done? Then do it. Tell no one of your in- 
experience. Think naught of it yourself. Go into 
the work with the fullest amount of self -trust and 
self-confidence. You will never fail. There is noth- 
ing that can cause our best to be a failure. Our 
best is a masterpiece in itself. Success is ever in 
the grasp of the man who relies wholly and uncom- 
promisingly upon the strength and capabilities of 
his truest self. 



Educational Preparedness 

ONE starting out for himself in life holds in his 
hands the power to formulate or destroy all 
his future prospects. In this world only those 
who are thoroly prepared are able to cope with life's 
activities. This preparation consists of an educa- 
tional training, but it does not mean a training sole- 
ly by books. Book training is in itself useless. Life 
is not written in black and white. It is emblazoned 
in letters of practicality upon pages of nature. Book 
learning should be an output of experience — and 
never should we allow our experience to become an 
output of book learning. 

There exists an ever-present question concerning 
the time and quality of our education, and likewise 
the distinction between book learning and educa- 
tional experience. These, and other related points, 
it is mjT- purpose to discuss in this essay on Educa- 
tional Preparedness. 

Upon the completion of a young man's high school 
course, the question of entering college naturally 
occurs to him. I take up my discussion from this 
point, because I firmly believe it is of prime im- 
portance to all young fellows to complete their high 
school course. This is absolutely essential, because 
it creates for them a foundation to work upon. With- 
out a high school education a man's plane of reason- 
ing is, in most cases, sadly dwarfed. After all, edu- 
cation in its truest sense is ^reasoning. Life itself 
calls for the highest degree of reasoning. An un- 
derstanding of this faculty as a basis to build upon 
must, in the first instance, be furnished. Then when 
this foundation is completed a structure must be 



EDUCATIONAL PREPAREDNESS 

erected, a structure fully rounded out in the arts 
and culture of life. 

A college education requires times and money. 
The average man cannot afford to GAMBLE either 
of these two essentials against it. Our colleges of 
to-day are full of young fellows who are utterly de- 
void of tact; who have absolutely no conception of 
what they are studying. A college education should 
only round us out in ideals and actual capabilities. 

I distinctly remember when, after graduating 
from high school, two pathways were open to me. 
The one was an entrance into college work; the 
other an entrance into the practical fields of labor 
life has to present. I considered the matter from 
every angle, and I finally arrived at the conclusion 
that I was not yet ready to enter college. I needed 
first to educate myself for a college entrance. Should 
I make my experience a creation of my education — 
or should I make my education a creation or output 
of my experience? I chose the latter. Had I taken 
a six years' college course on my twelve years of 
grade schooling an unbalanced condition would have 
been the result. 

A young man needs to come into contact with the 
world; needs above all to test himself to determine 
his real worth. A college graduate without this cru- 
cial testing is like a leaky ship in a sea of strife. 
Perhaps his whole educational work has been fo- 
cused upon an activity to which he will not fit by 
reason of his natural tendencies. Likewise he has 
lost just half of his college preparatory education, 
namely, the practical education of the world. The 
high school graduate enters college as a boy among 
boys. He will build his education upon this basis. 
It is essential that he know MEN and mingle with 
men as a man. Let him familiarize himself with 



EDUCATIONAL PREPAREDNESS 53 

the manners and customs of that great wave of man- 
kind with whom he will associate, and then let him 
educate himself for it. 

We must plan to get exactly one hundred cents' 
worth of value from every dollar we spend for an 
education. We should be familiar with each chan- 
nel wherein we are directing our efforts, and apply- 
ing our money. Building thus upon a firm bed-rock 
of self-understanding we can turn ourselves out once 
more into a world with which we are absolutely fa- 
miliar, as perfect specimens of progressive, intelli- 
gent citizens, capable of rendering our unstinted 
service to the world. 

From three to five years, or possibly longer, is a 
suitable period for a young fellow to receive his in- 
troduction into a world of men — the world that is 
his to enter. In meeting the world as thus described, 
we should meet it fully; we should enter a commu- 
nity where no faces are familiar, for boyhood's ac- 
quaintance is not conducive to manhood's success, 
and rise or fall on the best efforts our natural selves 
can produce. 

College adds a charm and a depth to our former 
understanding, and it establishes a clearer, more 
conscientious realization of life. It fits us for a 
fuller, more complete existence. With it we can 
assert power and influence, and can create for our- 
selves worlds of significance in the great sphere of 
humanity. 



Qualities of Walt Whitman 

XT WAS the far-sighted Burroughs who made 
the remark now being universally echoed, 
that Whitman would take his place among 
the few major poets of the race. Custom has in- 
flicted a severe regulation upon the reading public. 
Whitman installed a verse which bears a forceful 
diversion from all set forms of literature. In doing 
this — in blazing his own trail of freedom thru a 
density of custom-toned literature, he made his 
errors ; he cut too deeply, or he left too many tangled 
obstructions ; yet he blazed his trail- — a trail that in 
the course of time will be worn smooth by a uni- 
verse of appreciative readers. 

There is a depth to Whitman that fairly teems 
with apt quotations; there is a dignity in his verse 
that smooths all criticism; and a quality is there 
which possesses a thrill of universality and finds ex- 
pression in the heart of every individual. 

Limited space prevents a citing of the finely toned 
sentiments of Whitman. His poems abound with 
beautiful thots exquisitely expressed. It is incum- 
bent here, however, to point out a few of the quali- 
ties that distinguish Walt Whitman as a man and 
that determine the flavor of his productions. 

The first quality that impresses us is his rugged 
determination to express the truth as he is given to 
see it. He is a man who is entirely true to himself — 
who writes exactly as he thinks it should be writ- 
ten, regardless of set forms, dwarfed critics, and 
misguided readers. It is said of some writers that 
their letters are most expressive of their true worth, 
for in their letters they regard naught save their 



QUALITIES OF WALT WHITMAN 55 

own natural sentiments. All of Walt Whitman's 
works are his letters, letters of a soul's own natural- 
ness, written for its own sake. 

Another quality that demands attention is the big- 
ness of his viewpoint which is strongly reflected in 
his choice of words. His diction is immense, each 
word expressing volumes in itself. Perhaps no verse 
gives more marked evidence of this faculty than the 
one from his poem, ''Dirge for Two Veterans," em- 
phasizing the solemn beauty and grandeur of the 
ascending moon. 

"Lo! the moon ascending! 
Up from the east, the silvery round moon; 
Beautiful over the house tops, ghastly, phantom moon; 

Immense and silent moon." 

And finally we may make mention of the reserve 
force displayed by Whitman. Whenever we read his 
poems, regardless of the deep impression their sub- 
stance may make upon us, we are yet over-awed by 
the great thot his words point to, but do not express ; 
a thot that can never be conveyed in words, but that 
leaves its impression on the soul and the finer aspi- 
rations of the reader. The true essence of Walt 
Whitman goes further than his words. He estab- 
lishes a heaven of thot above his earth of words. In 
his, "To the Sayers of Words," he clearly establishes 
his standard. 



"I swear I see what is better than to tell the best; 

It is always to leave the best untold. 

****** 

I swear I will never henceforth have to do with the faith 

that tells the best; 
I will have to do with that faith only that leaves the best 

untold." 



56 QUALITIES OF WALT WHITMAN 

Walt Whitman has made a masterful contribution 
to the world of literature. Nearly every human in- 
stinct finds an echo in his broad scope of thot. The 
true future of Whitman is only beginning to be real- 
ized. Surely and steadily he is moving higher and 
higher on the rank of the major poets. The real fu- 
ture of Whitman best finds expression in his own 
words as he triumphantly defends the style and qual- 
ity of his verse. 

"My real self has yet to come forth; 
It shall yet march forth o'er mastering, till all lies beneath 

me; 
It shall yet stand up the soldier of unquestioned victory." 



On Foolishness 



g FOOLISH man is one who, after failing to 
turn a lock with his key, abandons his task as 
hopeless; when in reality the lock is already 
turned, and all he needs do is to enter. 

This thot came to my mind one day as I endeav- 
ored to enter a certain building that I believed to be 
locked. I tried my key that heretofore had never 
failed to work effectively, but this time the lock 
would not turn. In vain I made every effort to open 
the lock in the direction I knew it should turn. At 
length I decided to give up; pocketed my key; and 
was in readiness to depart, when it occurred to me 
that the door might possibly have been unlocked 
before I tried to unlock it. I turned the knob, the 
door opened, and I entered the building. 

Hov/ often in life we confront something as diffi- 
cult, and apparently as impossible, as turning the 
lock. We face obstacles we cannot move. Who 
knows but that after all that obstacle is already 
moved and we, so intent upon the necessity of mov- 
ing it, fail to observe the vital fact. Our key will 
not move an already turned lock. Neither will our 
efforts move an already turned obstacle aside from 
our path to success. 

We spend a certain period of our lives shaping our 
key for the door of success. This is called "prepa- 
ration." When our key is finally filed to fit the lock 
our undivided attention is given toward the open- 
ing of this door to success. When our key, which 
we know should fit, fails to turn the lock, we often 
give up in despair, when after all, the lock has been 
turned for us; and all we need do is to open, and 
enter. 



Creatures of the Night 



At night all alight with a-fright at their sight, 

Hear we creatures unknown. 
And they fight and they bite with delight in their might, 

And they gasp, and they cry, and they groan. 

"^^AVE you sat alone in the night in some wild, 
J Jg lonesome glen, where nature abounds at her 
best, and listened to the wierd, mournful 
sound of the darkness as its mystic creatures were 
holding their revelry? Have you been alone with 
deep thots in the dead of the dark, and heark- 
ened to strange voices that sounded in the heart of 
all loneliness ? Oh the night, black and solemn ! The 
mystical, terrible night! The dark wave of human- 
ity is afloat on its surface while we, unconscious, 
are resting. In our sweet undercurrent of forget- 
fulness and ease, could we only ascertain the dark, 
ominous wave that ever passes over us! From 
whence it came, to where it goes, no man can say. 
It comes up with the deep mists of the night; it 
sinks with the morning, in the vapor to the low- 
lands. Its dreary habitation is shrouded with mys- 
tery. But at night it is an all powerful factor of 
human consequence. Very real and forceful indeed, 
but it is ever covered with a prevailing mystery. 
Who knows what the darkness hides? Who can dis- 
cern the criminal intentions, the human sufferings, 
the designing heart, that the darkness gratefully 
covers ? 

Some souls are nights of darkness into whose 
shadowed recesses no man is able to penetrate. 
Whether it is suffering, whether it is terror, whether 
it is despondency, or whether a criminal intention. 



CREATURES OF THE NIGHT 59 

the shadows of beneficent darkness draw over it all 
a soft curtain, bidding us look no further. 

The night is an abstract object; yet we can see it. 
It does not concretely exist; yet it is there. Our 
hearts are as the creatures of the night, and thank 
God, our actions, kindly enough, are willing to hide 
these mystic creatures from a world that fails to 
understand. 



Our Symbol 



HE WAS a sight to behold! Huge and rugged 
in appearance he was as imposing a figure as 
the mountain crest on which he stood. Bold, 
defying, unconsciously manifesting strength in his 
every movement, he seemingly clutched the ragged 
crest with feet that were confident of their position, 
certain of the force and power vested in them. The 
eye long trained in the art of observing danger 
where the condition of peace apparently existed, 
gleamed with a keen, piercing glance — a glance that 
commanded not only the attention, but the respect 
of all who beheld it. The rough, homely counte- 
nance carried with it a quality that demanded trust 
and esteem — a countenance imbued with honesty of 
purpose, embodying in itself the great spirit of jus- 
tice, toned with firmness and honor. Standing thus 
on the crest of the mountain, free, and gracefully 
poised, he symbolized the new spirit of freedom and 
justice; of fidelity and trust. And our hearts were 
filled with admiration for this symbol of our coun- 
try — our nation* s emblem of freedom — the Ameri- 
can Eagle. 



The Bigger Things 

^w^HAT are the bigger things in life? Let each 
\^y man go to his conscience, and there receive 
the answer to this question. Useless, indeed, 
is the attempted explanation of these divine goals 
of human aspiration. We might speak of love; we 
might allude to the noble devotion of friendship 
that forbears all denouncing. We might mention 
the holy observance of purity which lifts us high 
on an exalted plane. All these may be regarded, un- 
der a general classification, as the bigger things of 
life. But in our souls have we power vested to de- 
termine for ourselves what we intend to make the 
Bigger Things in our own individual existence, and 
to that end we must direct all our efforts. It is our 
purpose here to consider the attaining of the Bigger 
Things as we are given to understand them. 

The greatest factor we have to contend with in 
our efforts, is that of discouragement. We give up 
too easily. We cannot surmount distressing obsta- 
cles. Hence the great point to observe in this in- 
stance, is the art of accepting conditions as they are 
handed to us. 

The events of life are of two classes — the favor- 
able, and the unfavorable; or, as we might term 
them — the encouraging and the discouraging. All 
events fall under these two classes. Now reasoning 
upon a psychological basis, we will observe that in 
our daily life we confront many hundreds of these 
events. Life is, in truth, a continual series of 
events, whether discordant or harmonious. It is 
only a natural circumstance that these events are 
going to be quite equally divided between the two 



62 THE BIGGER THINGS 

classes. We may draw our psychological conclusion, 
therefore, that a great percentage of life's events 
are going to be discouraging, and we should habit- 
uate ourselves in accepting them with the same gen- 
ial spirit that we accept the encouraging events, for 
they are only our just and natural due. 

The events of life may be compared to the keys 
of a mighty organ — some black and some white. As 
the master organist, Life, proceeds to play the sub- 
lime melody of Existence, the black keys are pressed 
equally with the white, and the thrilling peals of a 
soul's discontent, only blend with the joyous notes of 
hope — producing, in the end, a melodious dream of 
exquisite harmony. 

The Bigger Things in life are apparent to us all. 
It is easy to attain them, if we only succeed in ad- 
vancing beyond the trifles that discourage us, and, 
never falling, mount higher and higher, looking ever 
upward, until at last we grasp with a steady hand, 
the hilt of the Bigger Things we have labored for. 



Poems 



Poems 



THE ONE FORSAKEN 

For you there is no smile, however lonely you may be; 
For you there is no welcome thot, however weary life to thee; 
All former joys, all memories dear. 
Are drowned to-day in an exile's tear. 

The self-same heart that for you longed to beat; 
The eye with tender grace your glance did meet 
Are altered now: — that heart so true 
Carries its loving glance no more to you. 

The clear-voiced love that to your soul sweet murmurs brot; 
The sweet-born message made so dear to all your nobler thot 
Is dimmed ere now. The voice still clearly rings, 
But unto the other soul, its clear, sweet message brings. 

For you the warm caressing glow of fellowship with luster 

low 
Is vanished now. Only the shadow faintly seen displays the 

halo of that glow. 
The hand's caress of gentle love for you no longer thrills- — 
That inborn love — that natural love: well, mayhap another's 

heart it fills. 

That sense of knowing all for you is true and firm and just — 
Oh, God! the bitter thot! you had the loaf; you hold the crust. 
No voice of hope, no trust for you is there. 
Worthy, yet hopeless, you accept your crowned despair. 

For you this life is vaguely void of pain's release; 
Sip ye the bitter — let the other drink peace; 
For however bitter the taste to your lips is drawn. 
Know yourself as its maker — drink deeply and long. 

But oh — the sadness that to you is felt and known. 
Seems lightly entertained by those from whom 'tis flown — 
For you have done in truest sense the duty — service to be 

done — 
You held your course; you pleasure brot; but sorrow came to 

one. 



66 POEMS 

And, sorrow yet to you did come, as duty gladly you employed ; 

That duty sweet; but drinking it, brot bitter thots to be en- 
joyed. 

You caused the rose, the deep red rose, so sweetly bloomed 
for thee. 

To shatter; the lilac fed; you made its fragrance be. 

God give us firmness, wherein no touch of variableness mars; 

Give us peace of free endurance — light of the eternal stars. 

And then no blade of cutting pain in Duty's name will in- 
terfere ; 

But with a pure, unclouded heart, we covet that which we 
hold dear. 

Oh, gladly then we lay aside our own misdoings here; 
We set the cup of suffering down; we feel no longer fear. 
For Eden's vales with silv'ry light, will ease our heart-ache; 

soothe our care — 
And in its free, primeval grace, God's given love will greet 

us there. 



TO MY WIFE 



As twilight's meditations, lingering o'er my pensive mood, 
Mingle in melodious setting with my soul's choice solitude. 
Distinctly faint there comes a vision of blue eyes and golden 

hair; 
As looking into heaven upon the crystals there, 
One discerns a twinkling sparkle midst the calm serene of 

blue, — 
And drifting back to memory we recall the sunset's hue 
Lighting up with golden splendor the western sky above, 
Fading soon to tone the heavens with a blue of star-set love, — 
And beyond the golden sunset's mellow beams we frame 

a shrine 
That seems to climax living in a goal of love divine: 
And in my vision of the truest and the dearest of my love, 
I sense the rapturous presence of some spirit from above; 
For in the counsel of her love, her calmness, and her mirth, 
I greet the stars of evening; I embrace my heaven on earth. 



POEMS 67 

LINES TO THE DEPARTING EPOCH 

As the mournful whistle, groaning, 

Bespeaks the parting of a friend; 
As the sounding death bell, tolling, 

Brings joy and gladness to its end, 

As a fleeting moment, vital, 

Rushes out before our sight. 
Leaving but the shadow, darkened, 

And a journey in the night, 

As a golden privilege, blossoming. 

Sheds its petals in the storm, — 
As the welcome daylight, yielding, 

Sinks beneath the night's dark form, 

So to me life ends an epoch — 

Sad, not tragic, but in tone 
Reflecting somewhat, faded fancies, 

High ambitions, dimly known. 

Still, not to me can sadness enter, — 

This death but marks an opening goal; 
Brightening prospects, — golden fancies, 

Alert, awakening, stir the soul. 

The grandest visions are now unfurling, 

The sweetest joys are yet to be. 
The dearest word waits yet an accent. 

The richest deed is still for me. 

Anxious longings, life of yearning, 

Now is closing swift and sure; 
And the goal of fond ambitions 

Is at hand; the dreaming o'er. 

For life is acting, — hence I greet it; 

Careful building days are flown, 
Worth's foundation of true workmanship 

Is done, — its seeds are surely sown. 

So to thee, oh new existence, — 

New in thot, in word, in deed; 
To thee I give my all true greeting, 

Gladly take thee as my creed. 



68 POEMS 

Glad to pass this fading epoch, 
Into realms of dimming past, 

Glad to leave the old traditions ; 
Come into my own at last. 

But to thee, thou fading drama, 
Passing friend, before thy knell 

Yet rings, I wish to greet thee 
Once again, in fond farewell. 

In the land of thy dominion. 

Greatness came and pleasures grew; 
Joys divine were in thy service. 

Oh! Who can give them as did you? 

Youth's rich bounty, sweet with privilege; 

Faults excused, wrongs put behind; 
Boundless joys; all tokens wondrous, 

Pleasure rare, — of every kind. 

Yet in life we all are burdened 
With some shade of discontent; 

In youth we yearn for future blessings. 
In age this yearning we repent. 

Still, now — upon the threshold 
Of the door from mom to day. 

For one fleeting moment, thankful, 
I see in each a golden ray. 

And thee, oh master builder, 
Rest thy careful tools of yore, 

The foundation is completed, 
Master builder, build no more. 

But guide, aye, ever guide thee, 

The erection as of yore; 
As thou shaped the true foundation, 

Build thee now as ne'er before. 

For on thee is life dependent. 
Every thot and action grand. 

Needs to glory its fulfillment; 

A touch of the Master Builder's hand. 



POEMS 69 

TO THE HIGHLANDS 

To the highlands we'll go, 

From the valleys below, 
To the rugged fields waiting up yonder; 

Tho the steep slopes so hard 

Our tired steps retard, 
A prize 'waits the hunter up yonder. 

In the vales here below 

The dearest flowers grow. 
And lilies scent sweetly the air; 

Blithe charm's tender arms 

Draw us from hardship's harms, 
And bid us rest from our burden of care. 

Oh, how lovely the vales, 

The glens and the dales 
We find in the valley below; 

How soothing the sound 

Of our friends from around — 
Who bid us our journey forego. 

Those mountains up yonder 

With peaks tall and somber — 
Will burden us down with despair; 

Oh, those sinews of stone! 

Those steeps wild and lone! 
Oh hunter, fair hunter, beware! 

You are too frail — 

Too weak for the gale 
That roars in its wild mountain home; 

Let the foolish one try 

Scale those peaks that you spy; 
From these sweet, fragrant lowlands ne'er roam. 

Why depart from the cheer 

Of rare joys here so dear. 
And the pleasures and gay sights around, — 

To face the rough night — 

With its terror and fright, 
And its gloom and despair so profound? 



70 POEMS 

But hunter, up yonder 

In beauteous splendor — 
The rising sun greets the new day; 

In those peaks you so fear 

Rests a prize that's most dear; 

Then away, fearless hunter, away! 

Beyond yonder mountain 
A glorious fountain 

Is shedding its riches for you; 
A wealth in the skies 
O'er that mountain peak lies. 

That is holding its treasure for you. 

Manhood's welcome caress — 
Crowned with pearls of success 

Is yours, when those mountains you've trod; 
And that steep peak you spy, 
Reaching forth toward the sky, — 

Is the high, lofty summit of God. 

Then to the highlands we'll go, 

From the valleys below. 
To the rugged fields waiting up yonder; 

Though the steep slopes so hard 

Our tired steps retard, 
A prize 'waits the hunter up yonder. 



Miscellaneous 



In the Trail of the Winding Willie 

GAN I run an auto?" Was that what ye asked 
me, stranger? Wall, yes, I 'low as how 
I can run an auto at a right smart of a 
pace, even tho I have lived off an' on in the 
hills of Oregon. But hang me, stranger, hit 
makes me think, talkin' of autos, 'bout a little 
experience I had with one when I war farmin' 
that hundred an' sixty up thar in them moun- 
tains with Stonebottom Prindle and Skylight 
Davis. You know them, I reckon? Stonebottom 
Prindle as now runs that garage over there that 
goes by the name of * Archibald Prindle Garage Co.' 
You ask HIM whar he ever got any experience with 
fixin' autos, an' he'll be tellin' you the little tale as 
I'm a-goin' ter tell you. I tell you how HE got 
HIS experience. Hit war a-fixin' that little auto 
as we called the Windin' Willie that time when we 
three war a-farmin' that hundred an' sixty up thar 
in the hills of Oregon. Why many's the time I've 
see him lay under that little machine the whole day 
long, an' wake up in the mornin' ter find him thar 
yet. That's how Stonebottom Prindle got his ex- 
perience. 

An' then take a squint at Skylight Davis, the Sen- 
ator Charles A. Davis, I mean, the famous orator. 
How did HE ever get HIS experience in oratory? 
I'll tell you, stranger; he got his experience talkin' 
to that little machine as we called the Windin' 
Willie, that time when we farmed the hundred an' 
sixty up thar in the hills of Oregon. Why I've see 
Skylight set for hours at a time a-talkin' to that 
little machine, a-coaxin' it, a-pettin' it, a-cussin' it 
an' sech, until hits no wonder he turned orator. 



74 IN THE TRAIL OF THE WINDING WILLIE 

An' look at me. How did I ever learn to farm 
with machinery? You see, I ain't got 'ary horse 
around the place. I do all my farmin', plowin', 
plantin', cultivating an' sech by machinery. How 
did I ever learn to do hit? Hit war by a-hitchin' 
that little auto as we called the Windin' Willie, to 
our plows, harrows, wagons, frezenoes, an' sech, an' 
a-usin' it to pull 'em 'stead o' horses. 

But thar, I'm off my track. I believe, stranger, 
that I'll tell you if you don't mind, about how we 
three farmed that hundred an' sixty, known as the 
"Stonebottom Prindle, Skylight Davis, an' Sidetuck 
Williams Ranch," in the hills of Oregon, an' how we 
first met up with the Windin' Willie, an' hov/ we 
prospered tharby. 

We had all three chipped in an' formed a partner- 
ship concern, an' had purchased a hundred an' sixty 
acres in the hills of Oregon. Hit war kind of a 
deserted place to be sure, but nevertheless, we fixed 
it up till we had as good a little spot as ever I see. 
Hit war the only cleared spot for 'bout a hundred 
mile 'round. We only had 'bout twenty-five acres 
to clear, for the rest didn't have any trees on it. 
Reckon 'twas cleared years before. But I tell you, 
stranger, twenty-five acre ain't no little sight to 
clear, leastwise when it's covered with big trees. But 
we figured as how we wouldn't have to use that 
twenty-five acre for to plant anything in, so we de- 
cided to set up our cabin in it, an' build our barns 
thar, an' then use off the trees just as we needed 
them for wood. So we built our cabin, an' barn, an' 
tool shed, an' every other dod-burned buildin' we 
could think of, an' then we lit in an' fenced the 
whole business. Wall we had no sooner finished that 
than we each took a span o' horses an' a plow an' 
started in turnin' sod. We worked like good fellers 



IN THE TRAIL OF THE WINDING WILLIE 75 

from early mornin' till late night, an' finally we fin- 
ished. We got our crops in a little late perhaps, but 
just so they'd come up we didn't care. Then we fig- 
ured we'd get a little rest, an' wouldn't have to be 
doin' anything, 'ceptin' to feed an' water the stock. 
But Skylight Davis figured as how it would be bet- 
ter for to clear 'bout ten acre of the wooded twenty- 
five fer immediate use. 'Ter you see, Sidetuck," he 
says ter me, "yer see how wise it would be fer to 
put in 'bout ten acre o' fall wheat. An' besides it 
will have to be cleared sometime, an' now is as good 
as any," says he. 

Wall, I see Stonebottom didn't like it, but he didn't 
say nothin', an' accordingly we started out with our 
axes an' saws. We worked like good fellers until 
we'd cleared five acre, when one night, all of a sud- 
den, I see Stonebottom sug his axe down good an' 
hard into an old tree stump, an' says he, "I've got 
enough of this sawin', an' choppin', an' jerkin' up 
stumps, an' by the shinin' stars, I'm goin' ter rest. 
It's only the first of August, an' we're half done al- 
ready. We'll have to wait till fall anyway afore we 
can put in that wheat, an' furthermore, fellers, I 
ain't drew a decent breath since we got this dog- 
oned place. We work jes' as hard as ary nother fel- 
ler what believes in takin' a two weeks vacation. 
An' now I moves that we all quit everything, 'ceptin' 
ter tend ter the stock, an' take a two-weeks vaca- 
tion." ''Second the motion," says I. "I carry it 
unanimously," says Skylight; an' so it war settled. 

The next day war Sunday, an' we slept the whole 
bloomin' day. Hit war the first Sunday as we had 
ever really enjoyed ourselves, fer we worked as hard 
on Sunday as ary nother day in the whole infernal 
week. On Monday we sot outside our cabin en- 
joyin' ourselves — Stonebottom tinkerin' over some 



76 IN THE TRAIL OF THE WINDING WILLIE 

new fangled kind of a swivel he war a-tryin' ter in- 
vent, an' Skylight war tilted back agin the cabin 
readin' a book, when suddenly I sees a sight a-comin' 
down the narrow windin' path in the trees, that I 
never see before in all my born days. Curious? 
Wall that's no name fer't. I knocked Skylight's book 
out o' his hand, an' too excited ter speak, I jes 
pointed. There, a-comin' down that narrow trail, 
hittin' every rock, tree, chuck-hole, an' all, come a 
little red otmobill. An' in the front seat arunnin' 
uv her sat the fattest little wingless cherub I ever 
in all my born days have seed. Stonebottom war 
bendin' close over his task not noticin' anything 
when suddenly, *'Honk, Honk," the blamed thing 
went. I gonnies! Down came old Stonebottom's 
chair with a crash, an' his hair rose six inches. Sky- 
light nearly fainted. 

The little feller drove up in front uv our cabin 
an' stopped. ''Hello," says he, rather short like, an' 
I managed to gasp out, ''Howdy." "Be I at the place 
known as the Stonebottom Prindle, Sky — " "Yes," 
says I, interruptin' him, "you be thar." "I'm in the 
auto business," says he, "wanter buy an auto?" "A 
hoto?" says Stonebottom. "An auto, auto-mo-bile." 
"Is that what that thar thing is, Mister?" "That's 
what she is, an' she's a dandy. I've been takin' my 
vacation, an' a feller I was with told me that you 
fellers was only livin' about ten mile from us, so I 
thought as how I'd call an' see if I couldn't trade you 
this auto for a horse an' five hundred dollars. Now 
I am a man of a very few words, an' believe in comin' 
directly to the point. This here car is good, fer its 
brung me over these mountains in first class condi- 
tion. Now, I'll take you fellers fer a little spin, an' 
if you like it you buy it, an' if you don't I'll mosey 
along away from here. So pile in." 



IN THE TRAIL OF THE WINDING WILLIE 77 

Thunder-struck we piled in, an' heavings, he turns 
a little stick concern an' the bloomin' thing com- 
menced to shake an' bounce, an' make noise enough 
to scare a rattlesnake. Stonebottom war in the front 
seat an' Skylight an' me war in the back. We jumped 
up an' was startin' to climb out o' the blamed thing, 
— when zing — away she went like a flash, an' down 
we went in the seat. An' all we dassed do was to jes 
hold on fer grim death. 01' Stonebottom kept his 
eyes open, however, an' he kind o' half way figured 
out how to run it. An' by gums ! afore we got back, 
I swear if I didn't get to enjoyin' myself right smart, 
an' I guess Skylight did too, fer says he, "Right pirt 
o' sport ain't it, eh Sidetuck?" I 'lowed it was, an' 
by gums, we all got so in love with that little car that 
when the gentleman asked fer our decision, we pun- 
gled up that five hundred right away, an' give him 
a horse, an' off he started, leavin' the ol' car with us, 
alongside uv o lot of good wishes. 

Wall thar war some gasoline in it an' we already 
had a good supply at our cabin. So first off, we all 
piled in; Skylight an' me in the back an' Stonebot- 
tom in the front a-guidin' uv it. An' now stranger, 
commences my story proper: '*In the Trail of the 
Windin' Willie," fer that's what we named our ma- 
chine, the ''Windin' Willie." After many efforts, 
Stonebottom got it started an' off we went, faster 
an' faster, till I swear to goodness, my head jes 
swum an' I couldn't tell whether I war on earth 
a-hittin' rocks an' chuckholes, or in the air a-hittin' 
tree tops an' clouds. We had no time fer nothin', 
no sir, not us. We jes held on fer all we war worth. 

All uv a sudden, jes as I had expected, crash! We 
sugged up against a tree with sech force as to break 
a common machine. But she didn't bust, no siree. 
She didn't do nothin' but stop. That tree wouldn't 



78 IN THE TRAIL OF THE WINDING WILLIE 

bust ner get out uv the way, ner neither would that 
machine go past her. She jes stuck, an* in that stick, 
I drew a deep breath an' fer the first time looked 
aroun' me. I gonnies ! Uv all the sights ; thar stood 
or Maud, the mule, on her hind legs, her front feet 
plumb up above her head. Her mouth was open, an' 
her eyes war rolled clean back out o* sight. She 
didn't make no noise. Jes naturally couldn't. Too 
scared. An' thar, a-goin' helter skelter over the 
fields, war the pigs an' the fowls. An' talk about 
noise ; the ol' cow war jes simply searchin' her con- 
stitution fer sounds ter demonstrate how scared she 
war. 

An jes then — Zing! Back we went jes like a sky- 
rocket, or Stonebottom had pressed the reverse. It 
mighty nigh pitched me over his head. I stuck her 
though, an' held on, tryin' my best ter accustom my- 
self ter the two mile a minute pace the Windin' Wil- 
lie war a-settin'. It's hard tellin' whar we would o' 
gone, when chug. That machine come ter a dead 
stop, or Stonebottom had at last touched the right 
brake. An' then, stranger, something happened. 
Somethin's bound ter happen when a bloomin' little 
machine goin' two mile a minute suddenly comes ter 
a stop. The first thing I knowed I war pitched clean 
out o' that thar machine ter fall seven foot away on 
the plowed ground. I glanced 'round fer Skylight. 
I caught one glimpse o' him in the air an* then he also 
come down a few feet from me. Stonebottom turned 
a summer-set clean over the steerin' wheel. Pretty 
soon I got up an' rubbed my head. Skylight got up 
an' rubbed his knee. Stonebottom got up an' rubbed 
his skinned nose. "Wall now, what's ter be done?" 
says he. "Boys," says Skylight, "we cain't sot here 
all day. We got ter get our money's worth," an' so 
sayin' he again rubbed his knee. 



I 



IN THE TRAIL OF THE WINDING WILLIE 79 

"1 got a scheme," says Stonebottom, an' so sayin' 
he walks over ter the barn an' comes back with an ol' 
plowshare that had bin sharpened an' resharpened 
till it war jes like a long spike with a point as sharp 
as a needle. "Now," says he, as he carefully fastened 
it onto the front o' the machine with spikes, ropes, 
an' log chains, "we'll see how this works. NOW if 
she runs up agin a tree, she'll stick, least-wise she'll 
stick long enough fer me ter see what I'm a-doin, 
an' then we won't go backwards so dod burned swift. 
So climb in boys." 

We climbed in, though I'll admit I never war so 
scared since I had the smallpox. An' away we went 
like a shot out uv a thirty-two centimeter; when 
clash. We hit a tree an' stuck. Yes we STUCK. 01' 
Stonebottom tried every lever in the dod burned car, 
an' he couldn't budge her. We got out an' pushed an' 
pulled an' pushed agin, an' yet we couldn't shuv her 
an inch. 

"Wall, Sidetuck," says Stonebottom, "thar's only 
one thing ter be done, an' that's ter saw ez much uv 
this tree off ez we can, an' carry the rest with us." 
An' he war right. That war the only thing. Accord- 
in'ly we got a saw an' sawed the top off, an' then the 
bottom, leavin' 'bout a foot an' a half uv the stump 
hangin' on ter the plowshare. 

We rested fer a while, an' when we went back ter 
the car, we noticed that the sun's hot rays had 
drawed the pitch from the stump, an' that both 
ends an' the bark war jes covered with it. An' 
sech pitch! I gonnies it war worse ner glue. Once 
an object stuck, always stuck. Wall we dumb in 
again an' off we started. By this time Stonebottom 
war gettin' so he could guide the thing, but he 
couldn't handle the brakes. He steered her pretty 
well an' away we went, keepin' next ter the fence. 



80 IN THE TRAIL OF THE WINDING WILLIE 

We made some time, too. I swear we war a-goin' 
three mile a minute. By the time we got aroun* 
the place onct, we had six chickens, a cow's tail, 
an' a pig's foot stuck fast ter the stump, an' still 
we kept a-goin'. When we had cleared 'bout half 
the distance in the second round, one o' the calves 
got right square in our way. We run in ter her an' 
she stuck. But the funniest part uv it all war, that 
she war stuck in sech a way that she had ter run. 
An' I swear never in all its life did that calf travel 
half ez fast ez it did that time. 

Wall, things war gettin' in a perty bad shape. 
Night war comin' on, an' we couldn't get a chance 
ter light the headlights, an' besides, we had perty 
nigh half our stock stuck on ter that thar stump in 
front uv the car. It's hard tellin' what would uv 
happened when suddenly Stonebottom again suc- 
ceeded in pressin' the right brake. An' agin she 
stuck dead still. Skylight an' me war pitched up 
in the air, I caint say jes how fer, but ez I war goin' 
up I passed Stonebottom who war comin' down. 
We've often argued 'bout that since, which one went 
the highest, an' I swear I did, but 01' Stonebottum 
alius 'lows that he beat me by half a inch. But the 
jolt war too much fer that thar stump, an' off it 
went with half a hundred things hangin' ter it : 
calf, hog, cow's tail, pig's foot, turkey's wing, cow's 
horns, cats, dogs, an' a lot o' other things too nu- 
merous ter mention. 

Wall, we'd got enough fer one day. We went in 
ter the house an' went ter bed. Next mornin' Stone- 
bottom says, "Wall, boys, thars one thing I've got 
planted firm an' solid in my head. Afore we do ary 
nother thing, we all had better take that machine 
ter pieces an' lam what it's made uv, an' then maybe 
we can run her. 



IN THE TRAIL OF THE WINDING WILLIE 81 

So stranger, ter make a long story short, we did 
take that little critter ter pieces, an' learned what 
she war made uv an' how ter be after runnin' her. 
All through our vacation we run that thar little gas 
wagon up and down them mountains, en joy in' our- 
selves immensely. An' with Stonebottom a-layin' 
under the machine a-fixin' it, an' with Skylight 
a-coaxin', pettin', an' a-cussin' it, an' with me a- 
tryin' ter run it, we got along right smart, an' even 
got it ter do our plowin' an' sech, an' more than 
that we roped it in ter sawin' trees an' jerkin' up 
stumps, an' hang me afore long, we grew ter lovin' 
our respective work so much that we rented our 
hundred an' sixty up in the hills of Oregon first 
chance we got, an' I started up this farm as I runs 
by machinery, an' Skylight Davis 'stead uv coaxin', 
pettin', an' cussin' autos, started out coaxin', pet- 
tin', an' cussin' people, till they done 'lected him 
Senator. An' Stonebottom Prindle, he set up that 
garage over thar, an' started in ter the auto livery 
an' repair business. 

But stranger, thar's one car that sets in a clean 
little room all off by itself. He never rents this car 
ter anybody, but he cares f er it more ner ary nother 
car in the whole lot. But this little two-seated, red 
car don't always set idle. Thar's a certain time o' 
the year when three fellers : a Senator, a auto man, 
an' a farmer, decide that they need a rest from the 
toils uv the day, an' fer two weeks they ride back 
an' forth in a little red auto called the Windin' 
Willie, near a certain cleared spot of a hundred an' 
sixty acres, in the hills of Oregon. 



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